Please Die On the Platform

While travelling in the train the other day I was treated to an impromptu karaoke performance from a pair of respectably dressed middle aged Asian ladies who were singing away peering at a shared iPhone for the words.  At least I presume they were words, I didn't actually understand the language.  It is fair to say that myself and a young Indian lady who were the only other occupants of the carriage were slightly bemused.

Karaoke is, of course, a Japanese word.  It is formed from the two core words "kara" meaning "personal development" or "self creation" and "oke" meaning "total prat".  It is generally undertaken in dark bars where there is an element of deniability and the presence of alcohol can at least explain if not quite excuse the behaviour.  Never before have I seen karaoke proudly flaunting itself in the unforgiving light of day.  Although if it was going to happen anywhere a train is probably the most likely place since most of them double as a combined commuter service and mobile mental institution.

I didn't really mind the singing to be honest.  Unlike most people who sing on trains the two ladies were sober and didn't hit the passengers up for money afterwards.  By comparison with most interactions one has with fellow passengers on trains at least this one didn't leave me feeling scared, outraged, irritated or angry.  It was certainly a cut above the latest crop of public announcements CityRail broadcasts to its unsuspecting passengers. 

Firstly we are solemnly informed that police are currently targeting criminal and antisocial behaviour.  That's good to know I suppose but I rather thought that was what the police were supposed to be doing all the time.  If they're doing anything else can we get them to stop?  Once we'd assimilated the concept of police roaming amongst us unaccountably doing their job we got the second message.  In tones designed to indicate a certain level of simulated concern we were asked not to remain on board if we were feeling ill.  Very graciously they didn't expect the diseased amongst us to hurl ourselves from a moving train but they would be terribly chuffed if we got off at the next station where "station staff will be able to assist us".

How the station staff will be able to assist us was left unsaid but there was the distinct impression that people whose normal role was to sell tickets and hold up flags had also had paramedic (or, at least, mortician) training.  The purpose behind this, we were informed, was to avoid delays.  Which makes sense, if you drop dead on a platform people can just step over you whereas if you're inconsiderate enough to do it on a train somebody actually has to come and drag you off.  While CityRail's newfound interest in avoiding delays is to be commended it is a little sad that their initial step towards this goal results in our ill and lame being herded onto railway platforms to die.  Although it is nice to know that station staff can assist them in this goal.

If I started feeling sick on a train I (selfish bastard that I am) would probably try and remain on the train until I reached my destination in the hopes that a speedy transfer to somewhere more congenial might assist in my recovery.  I can't imagine that my journey towards wellness would be speeded by writhing on a strange railway platform while somebody with a flag tucked under their arm attempted to perform CPR on my feet.  At least on the train I would have the dulcet sounds of Asian ladies doing karaoke to ease my suffering.  I'll bet they don't provide that when you're on the station.